


Dear Artemis

by Minne_My



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, agony aunt, magazine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:47:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26356705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minne_My/pseuds/Minne_My
Summary: What if Dot was the agony aunt Artemis?
Comments: 9
Kudos: 21
Collections: Miss Fisher's Sonder Stories





	Dear Artemis

Dorothy Williams led a double life. Nobody could have suspected the quiet sparrow who did good works for the church to be the agony aunt at the top women’s magazine in Melbourne, _Women’s Choice._ Her identity was strictly confidential, on pain of employee dismissal. Miss Charlesworth meant to protect one of her most useful employees. _Dear Artemis_ was an anonymous presence that advised and governed half of Melbourne’s decisions. Each week she read through hundreds of heart wrenching, traumatising and sometimes ridiculous pleas for advice. She could swear that some of them came from men. Those odd kinds of men who preferred other men...in that way. Dot didn’t judge, there was far worse, enough content in those letters to make her hair curl, things that her priest would have advised her not to handle but she wasn’t going to tell Father Grogan a thing about how she earned her money. It wasn’t lying. It was omission. She never needed to mention it so the subject never came up.

_‘Dear Artemis, I am arranged to be married into a most prestigious family. I have only just met my new husband and he is pleasant and kind. But as bound to my duty as I am, I wonder how I can grow to love him? In our culture it is folly to expect passion between husband and wife, yet I would like to feel comfortable around him in an intimate manner._

_Shanghai Orchid.’_

Dot thought carefully about her response when it came to matters of culture.

**‘Dear Shanghai Orchid. An arranged marriage is a delicate path to tread and I must imagine that every couple who honours their cultural tradition will wonder how they will fare in one of the most important milestones in their lives. Each week find a way to inch a little closer to each other. Never underestimate simple gestures. Brushing against each other’s fingers is just as effective as anything more forward that you see in the films. Do little things for each other. Make sure that you both put effort into the details, for they matter more than people realise. Grand gestures can be overdone. Over time, I am confident that you and your husband will develop a warm relationship.’**

There were hundreds of letters about unrequited love or crushes, depressed mothers and despairing decorating choices and Dot dealt with each one succinctly but with heart. She never wanted to discourage anyone or make them feel hopeless about their situation. Her predecessor had been quite bit harsher with her advice and Dot had been hired to improve on that. Anyway, she ended up dead in mysterious circumstances, so Dot was particularly keen to avoid that. Anything that was too terrible to print, Dot did the courtesy of replying privately to send onto the unhappy recipient. She could have sworn that ‘ _Desperate flower maiden’_ was only a young girl, not old enough to know how the consequences of other people’s actions reflected on her. She seemed like a lost soul and Dot hoped with all her heart that she managed to save herself from the depravity detailed in her letter. Some people were fantasists. Dot’s intuition told her that the flower maiden was not one of them.

_‘Dear Artemis, I am not the marrying kind. I don’t wish to be. I have a perfectly satisfactory love life and favour a bold approach towards the opposite sex, something which is appreciated by those whom I seek. However, I cannot entirely pinpoint what draws me to one man in particular. While we keep bumping into each other in all sorts of circumstances, I like the challenge of both keeping him on his toes and seeing what he will come up with to surprise me. Should I pursue it? He is unattached, although I fear, rather badly burned from a serious relationship._

_Le chat noir.’_

Dot considered this woman of the world and took her time in replying. Again, it was best to take the softly softly method, especially as the lady wasn’t used to doing so. She was clearly a sophisticated one, she spoke French. Dot had to ask Miss Charlesworth what the translation was. She was even given a couple of French words to reply with.

**‘Dear le chat noir. Consider what kind of attention you want from him and act accordingly. It will not hurt your chances to play more of a coquette towards him. Not too much lest he get suspicious, but enough to keep his interest in you. If he feels the same, he too will reveal his intentions. He sounds like a real gentleman so take your time and do not rush into it like a freight train. You want to charm him, not run him over.’**

The next one mentioned another tangle of the culture kind. Since Dot had started working, she had been made aware of how privileged she was in holding a secret shred of people’s lives in her hands and that had made her more interested in how other people lived. Everyone really was the same, despite the language and culture differences, even if they were not always something she understood. Dot believed in the Catholic church, solid and true but did not discriminate.

_‘Dear Artemis, there is a man who comes into my workplace a lot. We rarely exchange a word but I am beginning to worry that he may have an effect on me. Each time he appears, my eyes are drawn to him as he browses, though he does not seem to notice. He rarely buys a book. Once he smiled at me. My heart seemed to jolt from my chest, though with fright or anything else, I do not know. I am not sure how to feel about it. In his culture it does not do to be so forward. I doubt he feels the same way. I do not even know how to define how I feel about him._

_Unsure.’_

Without knowing which culture, Dot had a ready answer.

**‘Dear unsure. I would advise that you set your sights on another man. If he is not forthcoming with his words or even his gaze, he is either uninterested or is too shy to approach. An extraordinarily shy man needs to be constantly nurtured and it should not be the job of a lady friend to do so to the point of propping him up. You deserve more than a fleeting glance. Put it down to novelty (which is fickle) and please leave yourself available for mutual attraction that does not skulk around book shop corners.’**

The next one was tricky. Dot had a suspicion who it might be. Miss Charlesworth, connoisseur of suits, was the one to take her to a salon in the French style and choose whatever dress she wanted. Dot strategically chose a suit not dissimilar to her employers own but with enough detail in it to show that it was made exclusively for her. Madame Fleuri beamed and told her that she had good taste.

‘A suit is appropriate for every occasion. You can be married or be buried in one of my suits and you will always be impeccable’ Madame explained, smoothing down the collar of the peach coloured blouse Dot had chosen to wear with it. Miss Charlesworth had also commissioned a blouse in a luxurious burnt orange shade that would go very well with the brown tweed. Dot felt very elegant in her new finery.

She showed the letter to her boss and Regina tutted. She too was sure who the writer of the letter was and how desperately low on pride she must have been to write in.

‘Better keep it a neutral one’ she advised. Dot replied with no indication that she was sure of the writer. If it was her, then she and her sister were in serious competition, judging by Dot’s visit to the salon. The French were rather too passionate for her liking.

_‘Dear Artemis. I run an establishment with my sister. She has developed some unsustainable ideas about how our business should be run, too influenced by the a’ la mode instead of the tried and tested methods. We have been in a state of disagreement for quite some time and we wish to end this feud reasonably. What would you advise?_

_Frustrated.’_

Dot had no idea what sustainability meant in the world of couture but for her, it meant mixing and matching separates, combining the cheap and the expensive and to invest in accessories. Coming from a large working-class family, Dot knew a lot about how to make ends meet on a budget and still lived modestly despite her rise in salary. Her mum was always in need of a few bob.

**‘Dear Frustrated. Sibling rivalry always presents a challenge and for a business, can prove to be disastrous. I would advise that you go over the accounts with her carefully, write out a list of strengths and weaknesses for each strategy, compare it and see how you can compromise. Give her a quarter of the budget for her to go with the a’ la mode and in a few months’ time, organise a meeting with her about her productivity and approach. If all goes well, there will be enough space for both of you to contribute creatively to the business. Conflicting ideas should not ruin the harmony, it just needs to be taken into consideration with compromise. I wish you every luck in your endeavours.’**

That seemed neutral enough. Regina approved. Dot sighed. Those was just the printed ones. She still had a stack of others to mull over. They put their work away and locked the office, Dot still mulling over how she should phrase to _‘Jealous in green’_ that she thought her husband was playing away.

‘Go home and take a nice long bath’ Regina advised. ‘How about those chestnut blossom salts that nice young policeman got you for your birthday?’

Dot was sure that Hugh would never have thought of it himself. He’d likely been told what to get by a saleslady. That suited her. She liked him well enough but if he’d thought of a gift on his own, it would likely be something as practical as a pair of rain boots. Not that she didn’t need them, she’d bought herself a pair with her first paycheck but while Dot Williams was at heart, a simple lady, she was also becoming firmly accustomed to romance from a penny dreadful, convenient hot water baths, pretty dresses and jars of pickles readily available in her pantry and any man she would marry would have to accept that he would have to keep her in that manner. The beauty of her job was that she could carry on doing it even when she would become a wife and mother.

Dot was looking forward to the bath. She was becoming her own woman at last.


End file.
